Blood Sacrifices
by GhostHelwig
Summary: Kanan knows that Gonou really, really loves her... Rated M for adult themes, incest, and general darkness. Contains SPOILERS.


Disclaimer – I do not own or profit from Saiyuki. Which surprises no one, I'm sure. Rated M for sexual references and other adult themes, including incest. Also, includes **_SPOILERS_** for up to volume four of the manga, I believe – basically, if you know the whole Gonou/Kanan story, you know the spoilers in this.

Author's Note – This plot was inspired by a conversation between myself and darthelwig, and the vague idea for it is was much hers as it was mine. Also, this is her prize for getting the answers on my livejournal quiz right. So enjoy, Dart!

I would like it noted for the record that I'm not saying this is exactly how things were – this is just my own perverted spin, written for the amusement of myself and my sister, and just basically to see if I could even do it.

Anyway, enjoy. Peace, all.

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Blood Sacrifices

by Ghost Helwig

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He thinks so much of me. It's sad, really. It's always been sad - from the day we finally met, my little brother and I, he has always looked at me with such trust, such faith...

Idiot.

But he's getting older now. Not old enough to begin to see other girls, but close enough. I can't allow him to find someone else – she might circumvent my hold on him. Intolerable. Idiot he may be, but he's entertaining, if sometimes a tad dull. I will not allow some other woman to have what is mine.

And besides, I want to see how far I can take this little game of ours. Can I really get my proper little brother to bed me...?

I don't doubt that I can.

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He's asleep now. How simple it was, in the end, to convince him that our love was 'so true', that we _needed_ each other, that "no one will ever love me like _you_, Gonou". He's such a simple creature. Like all men. Lead him by his needs, and he'll go wherever you want him to go.

Take Gonou, for instance. By the time we met, he was so starved for love that _just love me and I'll do whatever you want_ was practically written all over his pretty face. Enter me, needy, sweet, loving sister extraordinaire, and he's all mine.

I'm thankful that in all my previous experiences toying with men and boys alike, I never let anyone bed me – faking virginity in just the right subtle ways that he wouldn't suspect would have taken a lot of effort. While it's true he was a virgin as well, still I'm glad – he's hard to fool, for all that I do it so easily. He's blind to my faults, partly because I'm so adept at hiding them and partly because he simply refuses to see – no need for me to go pushing at those blinders unnecessarily.

I can't say I enjoyed this little exercise of ours, though I pretended all Gonou's earnest efforts to please me succeeded – in reality they left me cold. A rather messy proceeding, all in all. I hear it gets better. Frankly, I'm amazed that anyone, having experienced it once, would even bother to try it again.

I don't have a choice in the matter, though. I began this farce – I can hardly stop it now. Nor do I have any intention of doing so. I'll simply take the time while he is sweating and panting above me to think of more pleasant things, and improve my skills both in bed and in manipulation. Just because I find bedroom activities to be disagreeable doesn't mean I won't use them to the best of my abilities. I will keep Gonou in line however I have to do it.

And it may come in handy for other men in the future. One can never know.

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He's doing it again. Staring at me with that longing look on his face. Sometimes I just want to smack him. Why does he look at me like that? Why does he stare, and smile when I catch him at it, and then blush like the child he no longer is? What does that look _mean_?

I don't understand it. And no, I don't _like_ it.

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Okay, it does get better. Huh. Who knew?

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There's whispering in the town about us; has been for a couple of years now. No one really says anything directly, but it's obvious they all _know_. But I smile and simper, Gonou smiles and quietly teaches their children, and we aren't bothered.

I see the townspeople looking at me, though, the women with unhidden disgust and the men with ill-disguised lust. They at least must see the opportunities inherent in having a woman who 'loves' you so much she'll sleep with you despite it's being 'wrong'.

I can use this. Oh yes. And if the need arises, I will.

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Gonou spoke to me of his undying devotion today. While he did, I discovered how easy it is to control my gag reflex by using the same techniques I use on him in bed. Both his cock and his words are hard to swallow.

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Rumors abound of a demon who's been seizing girls from nearby villages. Something about this intrigues me, and I quickly learn as much as I can. Hyakuganmaoh, they call him. The centipede king.

Thinking of this demon keeps me up at night. What I feel isn't fear – rather, it's something much more heady than that...

I believe it's the beginning of a plan.

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There aren't many families in this village – enough for one school, one of everything. My competition, therefore, isn't very stiff. But there is one family with a daughter just a little younger than me, one with prettier eyes and a sweet face. Obviously they won't want to give _her_ up – but I still need to do something that will insure they feel no qualms about giving away _me_, even to a demon.

It shouldn't be all that difficult for a girl of my many varied skills. I already know what to do.

Thankfully Gonou works long hours; it would be much more difficult to find the time to seduce the man in his own bed than it will to get him into mine.

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Skill in bed, I'm sad to say, varies wildly from man to man.

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I'm following him again, this man I seduced, trying to get him to listen as I once more tell him how dearly I love him and how desperately I wish to be free of the incestuous clutches of my depraved brother. He got bored of this spiel awhile ago, I'm afraid. So I launch into the last stage of my personal use of this idiotic man.

I threaten to tell his devoted wife.

Is that hatred below the fear in his eyes? Yes, I think it is. Which means he is _exactly_ where I want him to be.

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My timing, as ever, is impeccable. Hyakuganmaoh's tribe has come for one of our women not three days after my heartfelt threatening of the pretty girl's loving papa. Gonou is at work when I hear the screams begin outside, as I'd hoped he would be, and I stand, forcing my face into the very picture of fear.

When the demons come, sent for me by the man I seduced, I can only smile inside. Gonou always told me he would do absolutely _anything_ for me. Time to see exactly how sincere he was in his claims of utter devotion...

Will he kill for me? I want him to. I really, really do. It would be the ultimate show of his blind love – blood sacrifices. That would make me akin to his _god_.

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I'm in Hyakuganmaoh's home, in his bed. A demon, as it happens, is built quite like a human male – truly, I hadn't expected that. But this particular demon is so intent on his own pleasure, I can't really appreciate what he does with his body. At least he gets enjoyment from my sex – it ensures Gonou will have the time to come for me. If Hyakuganmaoh bores of me too soon, I don't doubt I'll be dead long before Gonou can reach me. And that isn't the plan at all.

It's actually taking Gonou longer than I'd anticipated to reach me – but then, we had to travel a bit to get here from my village. And I wonder, not for the first time, what Gonou did when he realized what had happened to me. Did he make blood sacrifices of all those villagers? Did he slit their throats, bash their heads, bathe his beautiful hands red with their blood?

I moan at the thought, a sound Hyakuganmaoh takes for pain. He enjoys a woman's pain during sex, and my moaning brings him to his completion. He smells. I find myself almost regretting this choice.

But then I think of that village, laid waste in honor of me, and power surges through my body. Can one become a god with enough worship given? It certainly feels that way.

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My bleeding is late – that's new. And I know, without question, what that means.

That _bastard_ got me _pregnant_.

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It's alright. This changes nothing. I'll have this bastard baby and it'll simply give me one more person to manipulate, to toy with. I'll be a _loving_ mommy, just like I am a _loving_ sister, a _loving_ lover. It's alright.

But if I didn't want so badly to see Gonou kill for me, I would slaughter Hyakuganmaoh myself.

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Gonou is coming for me. I can feel it.

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I hear screaming upstairs, the sounds of chaos, of dying. Gonou is finally here, and he's doing exactly as I wanted. Blood sacrifices. All for me.

I wonder, briefly, if I should pretend to despise the demon child I carry when it's born – would that hurt Gonou in a way I can use? Obviously it would hurt the child – I bet he'd spend all his life trying to _earn_ my unattainable love...

A different but no less stimulating worship, that.

I think that's what I'll do. Pretend revulsion. I should have thought of that sooner, but my mind was clouded by carrying this – what should I call it? Oh, I know. _Filthy half-breed.__ Abomination._

This will be so very sweet.

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Gonou is coming downstairs – I recognize the fall of his steps on stone, even stone that runs red with blood. He's so predictable.

He's here, now, and I play the properly terrified, traumatized maiden. He buys it, naturally. And then I see the knife at his belt.

And a better, sweeter plan occurs to me.

"It's too late," I say. He doesn't understand, the poor, pitiful boy.

I pull the knife out while he's distracted by his love, his reflection in my eyes. The smell of blood pours off him in waves. It's difficult not to break character and smile at that.

I suppose he really does love me, my doe-eyed, devoted, dim little brother. He really does love me. I can almost pity him that.

He killed for me. _Me_. Who else has ever had someone slaughter people in their name? Who besides the gods?

And just like a god, I've scripted this whole act. Word for blood-dripping word.

"I'm carrying his child," I tell him, relishing the horror that floods his face as he sees the knife in my hands, hears my voice crack with pain. "The spawn of that... _beast_ is resting in my belly. That's why."

He looks truly frightened now. And in that instant I know I _am_ his god – I will shape his life with this final act in a way no one else will ever be able to emulate. With this, I truly own him.

He'll love no one after me, touch no one after me. I'm making sure of that.

His beautiful hands will never be able to touch another. They'll be stained red for the rest of his life. Even without me here, he will belong to _my_ memory, my voice and my caress and my sex.

And that is the ultimate sacrifice.

"Goodbye, Gonou."

I plunge the knife into my belly. And the pleasure is so intense it nearly eclipses the pain. I am his _god_. He'll never worship another above me.

I die happy.


End file.
